


after hours

by funwars



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, as always the only thing that happened from tgc is harry came back, so thats when this takes place? maybe? idk use your imagination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 03:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14824509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funwars/pseuds/funwars
Summary: harry comes back from an unidentified mission and convinces merlin to have sex in his office.





	after hours

**Author's Note:**

> i have low confidence in my smut-writing abilities so practice makes perfect or at least decent amirite

Harry has Merlin trapped in his tiny office chair, one hand pushing on one of Merlin’s shoulders to keep him pinned to the back, the other holding his chin to keep his head tilted up as they kiss. That way that Harry always kisses—slow, downright _dirty_ , and completely inappropriate for the workplace. Merlin, of course, reciprocates (he’s a professional, not a madman), but pulls back quickly.

“Harry,” Merlin warns, but it lacks any heat. Harry’s hand slides from his chin to cup his cheek, eyes still shut as he moves back in to kiss him again.

“As much as I love you barging in here like this,” Merlin tries again when they break apart, waiting for Harry to open his eyes to continue talking, “we’re at work.”

“Right, and I just got back from a very tiring mission,” Harry hums, blatantly watching Merlin’s lips, “where I missed you very much.”

“We’re at work.”

“We’re at work,” Harry echoes as he kisses Merlin again, and one of Merlin’s hands goes to push as Harry’s waist.

“And we should stop,” Merlin mumbles against Harry’s lips.

“Yeah, we should stop,” Harry repeats, bringing his other hand to cup Merlin’s other cheek and pull his face closer.

“Hold on.” Merlin pulls back enough to reach over to his desk, pushing the button to lock the door to his office and ignoring Harry’s smug grin.

“You never could say no to me.”

“You never let me.”

Harry circles around Merlin’s chair and shrugs off his jacket, Merlin standing up and watching him lay it over the back of his chair. The shoulder holsters follow suit, and Harry is about to go for the tie but Merlin clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“You’re awful presumptuous, aren’t you?”

Harry’s hands drop to his sides and he slinks over to lean against Merlin’s desk, Merlin slotting their legs together and smiling at him. “I like to think I know you pretty well.”

“I’m not fucking you on my desk.”

Harry slides his hands over the velvet patches on Merlin’s shoulders and wets his lips. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“No,” Merlin mutters, inching closer to Harry with a matching smile, “I suppose it hasn’t.”

Harry cranes his neck and kisses him again as Merlin’s hands work to untuck Harry’s shirt, the warmth of his hands burning through the thin material. Merlin can feel Harry take the glasses off both of their faces (the hesitation in Harry’s hand as he takes off his own is barely there but still noticed, but he doesn’t say anything) and he sets them down on the desk.

Merlin squeezes Harry’s hips and Harry takes the hint to hop up onto the desk, chuckling softly as Merlin drags his lips over his jaw.

“So much for not on the desk.” Merlin bites down a little too hard on the side of Harry’s neck, shocking a groan out of him.

It’s Merlin’s turn to chuckle as he soothes his tongue over the budding bruise, Harry’s hands finding the back of Merlin’s sweater and tugging at it.

“Fuck, _please_.”

“What do you—“

“Fuck me,” Harry gasps out as Merlin trails his lips back up the column of his neck, hot and wet and making Harry try and press his hips closer, try and get any form of friction.

The process of getting off clothes stops halfway—Harry’s tie, pants and underwear are somewhere to the left, but Merlin’s sweater gets pulled off and Harry is pulling him down to kiss him hard, legs hooked around Merlin’s waist to pull him close. Merlin grunts in protest and gets his belt and pants undone with Harry leeched onto his mouth, kicking them aside and deciding to deal with the rest as they go.

“If you accidentally unlock the door,” Merlin gets out, tugging open a drawer in his desk and taking the lube Harry snuck in one day out, “I will kill you myself.”

“Who said it would be an accident?”

Merlin settles back between Harry’s legs and slaps his thigh to get him to scoot up, Harry obliging but still smirking at him. “You’re going to kill me.”

“I ah... _prepared_ myself on the plane ride home,” Harry says, watching Merlin’s face for a reaction, “does that help or hinder your death?”

“Shit,” Merlin whispers, catching Harry’s lips in another heated kiss. He fumbles with the lube and drags Harry’s hips forward to press two fingers into him—the angle is strange but it’s not long until Harry is gasping and begging, and Merlin decides to quiet him by pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his cock. He goes slow, purposely, pressing into tight, slick heat with a speed that makes Harry toss his head back and groan, loud and long.

“I wanna—fuck,” Harry gasps as Merlin bottoms out, tugging hard at the back of Merlin’s button-down.

“You just want someone to walk in on us.” Merlin fucks forward hard and Harry damn near _yells_ , pressing his heels into his back to nudge him to go faster.

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on Harry’s ragged breathing, the changes in it as he pulls out and fucks in again, the small noises that escalate into loud, unapologetic moans as Merlin picks up the pace and grips Harry’s hip for leverage.

“See you like this, all desperate for my cock like this,” he continues after a few minutes and Harry babbles a plea, and Merlin only has so much self-control when it comes to Harry like this—it’s rare to see Harry with a hair out of place, and it’s even rarer like this.

One of Merlin’s hands sneaks between them to jerk Harry off slowly—Harry’s hips snap up between them and it takes a moment for them to regain their rhythm. Merlin can feel his shirt sticking to his back, and he has to take a hand off Harry’s hip to loosen his tie.

“More—just, more, _please_ ,” Harry chokes out, stuck between thrusting his hips up into the loose friction or letting Merlin fuck him into tomorrow.

“God, I wish you could see yourself,” Merlin mutters, fingers digging into Harry’s hip as he fucks in hard and uneven, “walking in here like the slut you are—anyone could walk in here and see how well you’re taking it.”

He’s barely finished the sentence when Harry cries out a moan of Merlin’s name and comes between them, clenching rhythmically around him as he tosses his head back. And Merlin’s about to stop (he knows he shouldn’t, but he likes to hear Harry beg) when Harry digs his heels into the small of Merlin’s back with a low grumble. “Stop and I kill you.”

Merlin doesn’t have time to laugh, opting for fucking in hard once again, and it isn’t long before Merlin is biting down hard on Harry’s shoulder—through the sweat-soaked shirt—and coming, hips stuttering before stilling altogether.

For a minute, the only sounds are the whirring of the air conditioning and both of their heavy breathing, Merlin’s forehead pressed into Harry’s shoulder. Harry, ever the romantic, starts laughing above him.

“What?” Merlin asks as he pulls back to look at Harry—he’ll never get over the way his heart swoops when he sees Harry smile, that’s for sure.

“You noticed I unlocked the door.”

“Of course I did. I specialize in noticing things, Harry.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment, searching for something on Merlin’s face, before bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Merlin smiles and without breaking eye contact, locks the door again. “I know.”


End file.
